“Are you bringing charges?” Kyne asked. “If not, then we don’t have to go with you to see the council.”
“Yes, that’s the law. But it’s going to look so much better for you if I can tell them you came willingly.”
“Well, I won’t. If you want me to see the council, then let’s do this right. You come up with some legitimate charges, and I want to see an Advocate for the Accused. Now.”
Was he serious? Raea tried to get Kyne’s attention, to get him to notice the warning look she was shooting his way, but he stared only at Swift. It was not a pleasant stare, either. Swift seemed unimpressed, though. He merely rolled his eyes, let out a frustrated sigh, and pulled up a pinch of whatever dust he carried in his pouch.
“Are you sure you want me to do this?” he asked Kyne.
“Yes. Do it.”
Instantly, Swift released the dust. It evaporated with a green puff. There was only a moment of silence then another light was seen in the distance, coming from the direction from which Swift had appeared. Apparently his dust had been the kind used for long distance contact. He must have known this would happen, so he had someone waiting for his summons. By the Skies, Raea doubted Kyne had expected that. He likely thought he was calling Swift’s bluff, that he could gain a reprieve or at least stall Swift’s plans for the night.
Raea watched as another fairy appeared. A female this time, prim and dainty and blue. She seemed just as efficient and official as Swift.
“Kyne has requested an advocate,” Swift said to her when she arrived.
The blue fairy nodded. “I’m Pimma, Advocate for the Accused.”
“So I am being accused,” Kyne said, barely acknowledging her. “Of what?”
Swift cleared his throat and pulled himself up tall and straight. His wings beat faster and he rose higher, enough so that he was looking down on Kyne, and the rest of them had to strain to look up at him. He smiled, and Raea waited for the charges to be leveled. It would be bad. They would be accused of an unpardonable crime. She waited for him to say the word “passion.”
But he didn’t. He ignored her completely and kept his crystalline green eyes directly on his detainee.
“It pains me to do this, but I must charge you with the worst sort of crimes. Kyne, Summer Fairy, I accuse you of Co-Mingling.”
Chapter Two
Co-Mingling? That was unexpected. And bad. Kyne ran his mind over recent events, wondering just how Swift had come to these charges and not any of the others he could more easily have grasped onto. It made no sense.
Co-Mingling was a serious offense—worse than the forbidden things he’d actually already done. Co-Mingling charges would claim that he had crossed the Veil and presented himself as human, interacting with humans and passing himself off as one of them. It meant he would’ve had to betray his magical essence and endanger the tenuous barrier between the two worlds.
But he hadn’t done that—not even close. Certainly he’d crossed some lines with Raea, and of course there was his involvement in covering up the mermaid episode, as Swift called it, but there had been absolutely no Co-Mingling. Why on earth would Swift pick that, of all the charges? And was he planning to draw Raea into the matter? He probably knew Kyne would confess to just about anything if it meant protecting Raea through this. Swift had him pinned.
But Co-Mingling? Everyone knew Kyne had no love for the human side of things. He’d rather have the Veil made impermeable so there could be no interaction at all, as a matter of fact. He thought he’d made that clear, standing up for his convictions at every opportunity.
For too long magical beings had been forced to dance to the whims of humankind, to go to any lengths to keep the bumbling humans distracted and blissfully unaware of the magic all around them. If Kyne had his way, he’d give up on mankind altogether, shut the Veil once and for all, and keep humans confined to designated nonmagical areas. It would free Veiled Creatures to live without the constant fear of human discovery. They would be free to explore all facets of magical existence—even the things now considered too human. Like passion.
Apparently that had been a foolish dream not shared by Swift and his associates. Kyne should have known better than to hope for such a thing. And he should never, ever have let Raea get involved. Anything he could do now to keep Swift’s attention off her, he would.
“What game are you playing, Swift?” he demanded.
“It’s no game. You heard the charges and you have your advocate. Now come peacefully or I’ll have to use force.”
Kyne would almost like to see that, though he doubted Swift might resort to something as base and earthy as actual violence. No, more likely Swift had a pouch full of Compliance Dust. That wasn’t handed out to just anyone, but Swift seemed like the sort who’d be authorized to carry it. Kyne would have no choice but to go quietly.
Besides, the last thing he wanted was a scene that might put Raea into an even more uncomfortable position. If he created an altercation, she’d be called as a witness and questions would arise as to why they were together here at this remote location. By the Skies, if Swift did anything to damage or harm Raea it would take more than a handful of Compliance Dust to restrain Kyne. But Swift seemed to be ignoring her, for now. The best thing Kyne could do would be to give in, to go quietly and leave Raea behind. Safe.
Yes, Swift had him. Kyne would go with him to the council and find out what they wanted from him this time. He’d been called in before, threatened with charges and ordered to play their puppet and spy on his peers. He’d not exactly played along, though, so maybe this was their retribution for his unwillingness to cooperate. Maybe they felt like ramping up their tactics to strong-arm him into doing their dirty work. Or maybe it was because they simply hated who he was.
“Very well,” he said, rising into the air so he was eye to eye with the hovering Swift. “Let’s go see the council.”
Swift gave an unimpressed nod, but Kyne could see he was pleased with himself. He thought he had gotten what he wanted. Well, let him think that for a while longer.
“Me, too?” Raea asked, her confidence betrayed by the tiniest break in her voice.
“No,” Swift replied. “You can go back to work. If we need you for anything, we’ll know where to find you.”
Kyne spared one cautious glance at her, hoping she might be reassured by his apparent lack of concern for Swift’s accusation. She didn’t seem reassured. Her beautiful lavender eyes were huge and her pink, feathery wings beat quickly, causing little eddies in the lapping water beneath her. He couldn’t deny that the sight of her being worried for him was more than a little distracting. If he thought Swift would let them get away, he’d swoop Raea into his arms and fly off with her, let her express her concern in more tangible ways.
But that was the sort of forbidden thinking that would only get him into more trouble. He’d better get those thoughts out of his head right now and concentrate on facing the council. Giving Raea one last look—and a smile to let her know things would all work out somehow—he let Swift and the way-too-young-looking advocate lead him back toward civilization. The magical kind.
* * *
Raea watched them go. Why had Swift not taken her? Surely she was every bit as guilty of forbidden behavior as Kyne. What was really going on? Did Swift honestly think he had any shred of proof to support that ludicrous charge of Co-Mingling? There was no one in all of Fairyrealm less likely to commit that crime.
Oh, not that Kyne wouldn’t have the ability. If he ever decided to try to pass himself off as human, it would require only a minimum of magic for him to do so. She knew better than most just how hard Kyne worked to hide his half-human attributes. He’d inherited far more of his father’s traits than he wanted anyone to know about. If any fairy on the planet could succeed at Co-Mingling, it would be Kyne. Raea knew this for a fact.
She also knew that it was precisely because of his parentage that he had no love for humans. If he had a choice, she suspected he would avoid a
ny contact with them whatsoever. Co-Mingling? No, she couldn’t believe it. Clearly, however, Swift did and he was in a position of authority. His word before the council carried enough weight to thoroughly condemn Kyne. With all the gossip about his heritage—not to mention the actual instances of forbidden behavior—Kyne was not likely to get a fair hearing. Even if he was not convicted of actual Co-Mingling, the council would, no doubt, find more than enough other infractions to punish him severely. He could be stripped of his position, denied magical privilege, and transferred far, far away from here.
By the Skies, she had to go help him. But how? Would anyone believe her if she claimed she could provide an alibi for him? And what if they did believe her? Surely that would get her in serious trouble.
Of course, that would certainly distract from these Co-Mingling charges. Would it be better for them both to be accused of the lesser crime that they had committed than for Kyne to be wrongfully accused and possibly convicted of what he hadn’t done?
The punishment for what they’d done would be unpleasant, but not nearly so bad as the sentence for Co-Mingling. She might lose her good standing in the community, might be held up to public censure, but that would not come close to Kyne’s fate if convicted of Co-Mingling. For that, he’d be sent away, forced to leave the Forbidden Realm and to live unprotected by the Veil. He’d be left to make his own way in the mundane world, at human mercy the rest of his life. And fairies lived a long time.
But if she confessed her involvement with him, then she’d be living with that shame all her life, too. Could she really just present herself to the Council and admit what she’d done? Her wings were shaking already at the very thought of it. By the Skies, how could she show her face at their gatherings? What would everyone say about her?
She’d be such a disappointment to her kind. It was too much—she doubted she could really go through with it. Maybe Kyne could get out of the Co-Mingling charges on his own and she would not have to say a word.
It didn’t seem very likely, though. Swift seemed so sure of himself. And, of course, she had to acknowledge that during the course of the inevitable investigation there was a very real chance that the council would uncover all that they’d done. What would she do then? Well, as long as there was no proof, she could deny everything, couldn’t she?
Yes, she knew she could. The council would probably believe her if she claimed Kyne had coerced her, that he’d used his half-human nature against her. The council knew about his background; obviously they wanted to find fault with him. They’d easily side with her. It was, actually, quite possible she could stay out of this altogether. She could stay totally uninvolved.
But that would be wrong. She was involved. How many times in the past had she attended to humans, granted their wishes for passion and fulfillment, and yet never actually been a part of it? Now with Kyne that had changed. Instead of being a passive observer as any respectable fairy ought to be, she had crossed the line. She’d let herself feel the desire, experience the aching, searing want inside of her. And then she’d given in.
He’d touched her and she’d wanted more. For the first time she had truly felt alive. Kyne taught her all the secrets of her own body, the ways to find pleasure in the arms of another and to feel the power of bringing her partner to bliss. His human legacy drove him to such things, but her response to him had been surprisingly eager and urgent.
He hadn’t needed to seduce her that cool, moonlit night three weeks ago. Her actions had been her own and even now she didn’t regret them. It had been so very wrong, yet she’d craved him in a way she still couldn’t comprehend. She’d followed her desire and been satisfied beyond expectations, her body quickening with delicious, delirious passion. It had been her choice to go to him then; now she supposed it would be her choice to go to the council tonight and taste the consequences of her actions.
She buzzed after them, far enough behind not to be noticed. Sure enough, they went straight back to the heart of Fairyrealm, to the meeting hall of the Fairy Council. She’d have to hurry if she hoped to be of any use to Kyne. For charges as dire as Co-Mingling, the council would probably move quickly.
But the hall appeared dark. It was built at the base of a tree, hidden among thorny undergrowth, what appeared to be old leaves, and other things humans barely took note of. There were windows along the front of the enchanted mud walls, but only one tiny dot of light shone from inside. Odd, considering she’d seen the glow of Swift leading Pimma and Kyne right through the front door only minutes ago. Were they still inside? Or where had they gone?
Naturally, due to the late hour, she hadn’t expected the usual fairy bustle that would be here during the day, but to find the place so vacant seemed especially strange. Strange enough, in fact, to make her leery of approaching. Whatever was going on here, something was not right. She’d better be cautious and see what she could figure out before she went bursting in and making matters even worse.
She ducked behind a rock, keeping herself and her rose-colored aura out of view from the hall. There was half a pouch of Wish Dust left from her daily dust ration hanging at her side, so she pulled a pinch out and tossed it into the air. It fell down around her. The ensuing sparkle immediately extinguished as she made her wish—to be invisible. She held her hands up before her and watched them disappear.
Yes, this was a good idea. She could make herself visible again when she was sure things were safe. For now, she needed a better idea of what was going on.
She darted around to the side of the hall, looking for an alternate entrance. Locked, of course. Drat. What about one of the windows? She tried the nearest one, finding it locked, as well.
She was about to head for the front entrance and take her chances there when the door she had just tried swung open. One of the council members stepped out, glancing around. She jumped back, held her breath, and stilled her wings, terrified her dust hadn’t worked and she’d be seen. Her magic was good, though, and seemed to have taken hold. The council member—she knew him as Dorn, a very dapper gray fairy glowing with an elegant sheen of age and experience—frowned, but looked right through her. Another fairy appeared in the doorway behind him.
“I could have sworn I heard someone out here,” the gray fairy said.
“I don’t see anyone,” his companion replied. “Come in. Kyne’s already requested his advocate and she ought to serve the purpose. She’ll hold us to the letter of the law, insisting the council hear the charges right away. We can’t hold him in there for long.”
“Patience, Wain. If we move prematurely all could be ruined. My contact will act. You’ll see.”
The one called Wain didn’t seem fully convinced, but he stepped back into the building. The gray fairy followed. Raea saw her chance and took it.
Leaping forward as softly as she could, she caught the door with one finger just before it fell completely shut behind them. Excellent. It didn’t latch. She waited, expecting at any moment that it might be pulled closed.
Nothing happened. She leaned in, listening at the door and hearing two voices fading away, moving deeper into the hall. Carefully, quietly, she inched her fingers around the door until she could pull it open, just a crack. She peeped in. No one there.
She slipped inside, wincing slightly as her wings got snagged by the door. She managed to stay silent, though, and tiptoed to the end of the narrow hallway. Beyond was the main corridor that ran through the building. Fairy architecture was not complex—her kind preferred to spend their time out of doors more often than in. Since they were primarily impervious to weather, buildings were useful, but not necessary. Besides, the fewer evidences of their existence, the better. The buildings they did have needed to be well hidden behind the Veil.
Scanning the way before her, she moved into the dark, empty corridor. A series of doors flanked her on either side and she worried it might be more difficult to locate Kyne than she expected. A sound behind her, however, solved that problem.
She turned
to see a door opening inward, way down at the other end of the corridor. She held her breath and pressed against the wall, but her Invisibility Wish held firm and she was still just as transparent as air. A figure appeared, coming out through the open door.
Swift. Yes, that was him. He was speaking to someone still in the room. Kyne, obviously. And perhaps Pimma, as well. An unfamiliar ire rose up inside her at the thought of that trim little blue fairy holed up in that room, alone there with Kyne. Why should she suddenly be so eager to burst in and separate them? Did she think the advocate would harm Kyne in any way? No, far from it. All she could picture was Pimma prancing around Kyne as she questioned or advised him, brushing his tight flesh with her wispy wings or leaning in overly close while she offered breathy legal advice. What else might she offer him?
Raea scolded herself. What on earth was wrong with her? She shouldn’t be thinking this way. What were these strange feelings that invaded her?
She was concerned for Kyne, of course, but why on earth should she feel such unfounded dislike for Pimma? She had no reason to form any opinion of the advocate one way or another, yet she detected a distinct hesitation to admit that. She didn’t like Pimma and didn’t want her with Kyne. Raea only wished she had a rational explanation for this.
By the Skies, could she be wrestling with a ridiculous human emotion? If she didn’t know better, she might say her feeling was jealousy. How odd. Of course it was common among her kind to feel some mild envy from time to time. She’d seen others receive honors of some sort and wished to share similar reward, and she’d noticed the elegance of another fairy’s spectacular wingspan and wished her own were so grand, but she’d never felt this stabbing heat of fury directed at another of her kind simply over something so petty. Could she truly be jealous that Pimma might be getting attention from Kyne while she herself was not? How extraordinarily unfounded.
It was undeniable, though. Swift had left them alone together and Raea didn’t like it one bit. If she hadn’t reminded herself of the importance of remaining undetected, she would have shoved past him in the corridor and marched herself right into that room, ordering Pimma to wish herself to Antarctica.
By the Magic of Starlight (The Forbidden Realm) Page 2